I, like a flower, start to wither...

poem and photo - © Jesús Montero

I, like a flower, start to wither.

Gone are the days when youth

Cried out loud:

Come, come hither!

I, like a flower, start to wither.

All that I’m left with

Leaves in the Fall,

And the snows of Winter.

I, like a flower, start to wither.

Gone are the days when youth

Cried out loud:

Come, come hither!

poem and photo - © Jesús Montero